


somewhere just a little closer to grace

by Miniatures



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brother/Brother Incest, Emotional Constipation, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s), Romance, implicit endgame Sabriel/Destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miniatures/pseuds/Miniatures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He breathes out. “I kissed Dean, once.”</p><p>Gabriel’s eyes snap up. “You what?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	somewhere just a little closer to grace

“I ate a man alive, once.”

Sam shrugs, tucking an involuntary shudder into the roll of his shoulders. “So?”

Gabriel cocks an eyebrow. His mouth twists, not quite a grimace, not quite a grin. “Feet first.”

“And I’m sure he deserved it.”

Gabriel cackles, high and cold. “Oh, he did. You don’t gotta prescribe me any Hail Mary’s, Sam. I’m not trying to atone here, just laying out the facts.”

He swings his feet, thudding his heels against the flat stone upon which they’re perched. The Impala is parked out of earshot, and Dean and Castiel are lounging on the hood. Summer heat beats down, sticking to Sam’s skin. The late afternoon sun halos Gabriel beside him. Glints gold in his brown eyes when he turns his head.

They’ve been stopped for an hour—the pines along this highway frame a plateaued clearing, their roots climbing down a sharp cliff that falls into an August-lean river. Dean thought it was a good place to stop and empty out the cooler he’d packed on their way out of town. They can zap back to the bunker at any time, car and all, but Dean had spotted this clearing on their way to their last case, and he wanted to take advantage of it.

Somehow, Gabriel has arrived at the conclusion that this is the perfect opportunity to convince Sam that he’s terrible.

“You’re a good lay, kiddo,” he says, meeting Sam’s eye. “But I’m not a _leave no stone unturned_ kind of guy. You dig into me, you’re gonna come up with a ton of shit you don’t like, and then the fucking stops and that’s no fun for anybody. So let’s leave this…” he gestures vaguely between them, “whatever it is at _good lay_.”

Sam scowls. “You think you’re the only one of us with baggage? Who’s done terrible things? Gabriel, neither of us is a saint.” 

“Ah, but to err is human. I’m an angel; comes with higher expectations.”

“Not really.”

Gabriel’s mouth tightens, and he rolls his eyes. “So I’m exempt from being a heartless fucker because _of course_ I’m a heartless fucker. Gee, Sammy, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“That’s not what I meant, I—”

“No, it’s exactly what you meant. And that’s good, it means I’m finally getting through to that stubborn, monkey-meat brain of yours.” Gabriel looks smug, and Sam wants to tear the expression off his face. “I’m a lot of things, Sam. Archangel, trickster, lover, sinner, space cowboy…” His lips quirk, and his eyes fall. “But I’m not exactly boyfriend material.”

They exhale together, like a tandem sigh. Sam can see the overlapping lines of colour that are Dean and Castiel’s tangled legs on top of the Impala. The heat is sending lazy through him in soft waves, and he aches, because he wants to be tangled too. But Gabriel won’t, Gabriel won’t touch him again today. The archangel is selfish, but he’s smart—Sam offered to give him more than he wants, so he won’t let himself take anything for now.

Still, Sam aches. And it’s desperate, and it’s painful, and it’s everything he’s ever wanted, and it’s fading from his grasp even as he clings to it. That feeling of ( _home, safe_ ) being loved—he’s always caught it in fractals and scraps and compromises. He has pieces of it in Dean and Castiel, and there’s a piece in Gabriel, and he thinks that if he can get to it he’ll feel something close to whole.

Sam breathes in. So Gabriel wants to push away. So Sam will just have to push back.

He breathes out. “I kissed Dean, once.”

Gabriel’s eyes snap up. “You _what_?”

Sam wants to say this, he does, but his hands tremble as he speaks. “I was fourteen. Young and hormonal and stupid. Dean was my one constant, y’know, and… and the one person I really _loved_. We—we were all we had, sometimes, and…” ( _a wire crossed in my brain, I had all this love and nowhere to put it, and he was there, and_ ) “I wanted him. Really… really fucking bad.” He laughs. “He’s the whole reason I realized I wasn’t straight.”

Gabriel’s leaning closer now, and even though that’s what Sam wanted he has a sudden urge to move away. God, he shouldn’t be touched, not by anyone.

“I stole some beer, got him drunk,” Sam goes on, in a whisper. “Not badly, just tipsy. I sort of… cuddled up next to him, and just… went for it. I wanted to get him hard, but I was so bad at it, I didn’t know what I was doing…”

“Did he kiss you back?” Gabriel’s voice is empty. Sam doesn’t know how to interpret that.

“A little,” Sam says. “Just for a second, then he pushed me off. I thought I was about to get my ass kicked, but he just told me to fuck off and stormed out. Didn’t come back until noon the next day. We didn’t talk about it, and I didn’t try again.” Sam swallows, and he hates that he swallows around a lump. “I already felt unclean, but that cinched it for me. And when I see Dean with Cas, when I see _you_ , and I think about what I almost cost us, I fucking hate myself. There’s something dark and filthy in me, Gabriel, and I took it out on my brother.” He shakes his head. “So don’t fucking talk to me about no stones unturned.”

Quiet settles over them again, and Sam wants to jump off the rock and fling himself into the river. He wonders whether he really intended that story to make them even, or whether he was just trying to kill what they have to spite Gabriel’s refusal of more. He decides it doesn’t matter. That _more_ , that last piece, is far beyond him now.

But he doesn’t move. He can’t move. He can’t stop shaking, but he won’t leave until Gabriel does. He won’t be the one who turns away.

After a minute, after forever, Gabriel says, “Angels don’t date, y’know.”

Sam frowns. “What?”

“Sure, Dad’s really softened up on the whole _love conquers all_ thing, but angels don’t date.” Gabriel shrugs. “There’s no point, right? We don’t reproduce, and we don’t value love—we _feel_ it, yeah, but it’s not seen as important. If we like each other, we just… hang out whenever we can.” He smiles, ever so slightly. “Means there’s no incest taboo either.”

Sam is openly gaping at him now. “So… I just told you my deepest, darkest secret, and your only response is _morality is relative_?”

“Well, it is.”

“Gabriel, _I tried to fuck my brother_.”

It’s Gabriel’s turn to frown. “What do you want me to say? According to my upbringing, the two of us screwing is _way_ worse than one drunken, incestuous makeout. And according to yours, it’s the other way around. We are, as the frogs say, at an impasse.”

They’re silent for another long moment.

“So…” Sam’s gut knots around the words, but he forces them out. “What we’re doing is… filthy to you. That’s why you want it to just stay sexual. It’s got nothing to do with you being too dark for me.”

Gabriel laughs, hollow and soft. He straightens, and Sam watches as a part of him goes distinctly _angel_. “Sam, I spent most of my existence getting it drilled into my head that lust and love were weakness. They make you stupid, and reckless, and disloyal to God. And feeling them for _humans_ was even worse. It’s like devoting yourself to a weed, or an insect.” He meets Sam’s eye. “You know the first thing I learned when I skipped out on heaven, Sam? That all that was bullshit.”

Sam swallows hard. “Why not more, then?”

“Easy.” Gabriel grins. “I’m a heartless fucker.”

Sam’s mouth twitches. “No, you’re not.”

“Do you still want him? Dean.”

Sam doesn’t even bother to be fazed by the abrupt subject change. “No. I haven’t… not since I was a teenager, really. And I’m glad, ‘cause he’s happy now. Or something like it, at least.”

“And you’re not?”

Shrug, sigh, and Sam aches. “Close enough.”

Gabriel leans back, shifts, and the sun catches his eyes again. They gleam gold, honey-dark and glowing. He places a hand on Sam’s, tangles their fingers.

“I think I am,” he says. “You didn’t cost us anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> My options were: work on my essay, or chase this plot bunny. Behold, the fruits of my efforts. 
> 
> This actually IS a headcanon of mine, the stuff with 14 year old Sam being attracted to Dean, though I don't know how attached to it I am. It's one of those headcanons that I apply to some situations and not to others, if that makes sense. At any rate, I wanted to explore it. 
> 
> Also, Gabriel's an idiot, but he'll come around eventually re: Sam. Consider this the spiritual sequel to Dirty Liar.
> 
> (Title taken from the lyrics of "Smile" by Mikky Ekko)


End file.
